Learning to breath
by mylifehaslostdirection
Summary: It was sudden and haunting and horrifying, and the cry remained in everyone's head for days after, days in which a young alchemist lies silently staring...RoyEd, my first attempt...:
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **If only I did own full metal – there would probably be more hugs for Ed and Roy…but I don't, hence I'm writing fanfiction…

**Note:** This is my first attempt at a Royed, so I'm sorry if it sucks, also – in this story, Roy and Ed are already together – hence Ed is in Roy's bed.

It was sudden. And haunting. It was sudden, and haunting and mortifying. The distraught cry remains ringing in everyone's ears for days after. Horrible dreary days, dreadful days. Days in which friends huddled together to drive away despair and days in which one young alchemist remains still and silent in Roy's big bed, face towards the wall, blankly staring with empty, lonely eyes. For days after that bright sunny day. The bright, sunny day when Al's armour body began to quake and minutes after, his soul slipped away. And then there was that horrible cry, and Roy had sprinted to fast, pulling the young alchemist back and pinning his arms to his sides to stop him from clapping and risking his life. And constantly that cry, a wounded animal cry, mingled with a yell. "Al. Al. Al." until it turned into a terrible chant and Ed fell silent, slumping against the body that held him, and, with unseeing eyes, allowed himself to be lifted and carried away.

**Note again:** I know that was really short, but I thought I'd put at least something up before I went away for the day, I'll probably write more tonight. And I'm sorry that I made Al die – it's in the manga I think, that it tells us that souls don't remain attached forever – it's a chance of luck or whatever – like in the movie, when Al's soul transfer thingy only works for a little while. I have more to write, so please review and let me know if I'm doing a good job… 


	2. waking up

**Disclaimer:** as in first chapter. Don't own, make no profit, etc.

**Note:** as promised, I wrote more last night, but failed to update last night, sorry. One note, umm, I'll try and write every night, but usually when I write it's after I've gone to bed and lain awake for ten minutes, before I get up and turn the light on again…I'm strange.

Please tell me what you think, I live on reviews. 

It has been two days now. Two days and two nights and still Ed is like a zombie, neither eating nor moving. He listens to the sounds around him and convinces himself that if he rolls over _right_ **now**, Al will still be here, Al will be demanding he get up and eat; but he is too scared to move in case this really bad dream he seems to be drifting in is in fact reality.

He feels the bed shift as Roy slides in beside him, one hand coming to rest on his shoulder, as his rough voice begins to speak quietly. Ed listens.

"We're holding a memorial service tomorrow, Ed. For Al. Winry is coming up on the train." A memorial service. Because one of the worst things about this tragedy is that there is no small body to bury, there is no trace of anything that is Al, there is nothing to mourn over. A memorial service for Al, and Ed's hopes shatter like ice, splintering across a frozen pond, before caving in to the chilling water beneath. Winry is coming, Ed can't deal with this, he can't have a memorial for his baby brother, and he can't truly have no mother and now, no brother. It doesn't make sense, it doesn't seem plausible, it doesn't seem fair, and Ed involuntarily throws his hands over his ears to try and stop all the truths screaming inside his mind, he just wants to forget. He just needs to forget.

He rolls over onto Roy, and he kisses him softly, and tiredly and urgently. Roy is surprised; Ed is quick, small and quick. He allows Ed to kiss him, but he can taste the tears at the corner of his mouth and knows that Ed is finally crying, knows that Ed is finally beginning to wake up again, beginning to grieve. Ed sits up, straddling Roy's waist, his hands suddenly turning clumsy as the fumble with the buttons on Roy's pyjama shirt, tears coursing down his face now, as he struggles. His eyes look up and find Roy's, and all the sorrow in the world seems to be drowning him, he is drowning and he looks so lost and alone.

"Help me." He pleads, his voice higher than usual, cracking slightly, and his heart shattering slightly, as Roy sits up a bit too, pulling Ed close, holding him tightly, letting him cling desperately to the shirt he'd been in such a hurry to remove, and letting him finally cry for the first time in a long, long while.


	3. drowning and walking

**Disclaimer: **as is in before chapters – don't own Full Metal Alchemist. Am making no profit.

**A/N: **I don't like the way this chapter came out as much, but it's longer than the others. More will be written tonight. Please let me know what you think, and I'm sorry how I left it at the end. But rest assured, it will be updated soon. Anyway, hope you enjoy it. :) Also, Roy in this is being very strong, just because I think he has to be for Ed, and although he too is sad, he can't be weak when Ed is drowning. Etc…

Ed is tired, his bones feel heavy, the weight of grieve settling in them like molten lead, only amplified by the weight of his automail. The morning had been hard, he couldn't remember much of it actually, his eyes half-closed and his mind shut off to the event they were attending that day. A memorial, the words like knives, slicing silently through his mind. He can remember the cool breeze as his feet hit the floor, the small comfort of Roy's hand on his back, gently pushing, gently guiding him, towards the bathroom, where he goes through the actions on autopilot, coming out in his towel, allowing Roy to dry his hair, sitting awkwardly on a stool, the cool breeze from the window and his wet hair causing shivers to run up his spine. He can remember the fresh smell of being clean, and the distinctive smell of Roy around him, in the bedroom, the hallway. The familiar sight of his own clothes, slightly dulled and blurry as he keeps his eyes half-shut to try and force the sunshine away, because today is going to be a sad day, and the sun is only making it all that much harder.

He can still feel the way the food stuck in his throat, and his small choking noise snaps him back to the present, where he's trudging through the streets to the train station with Roy, to collect Winry. Everything around him seems to blur together as he concentrates on not looking around him, but only at Roy's back. One hand stretches forward, _don't leave me behind._

A small gloved hand slips into that of a larger gloved hand, two gloves, hand in hand, separating the skin beneath them, but the warmth is not lost, Roy can feel the small warmth and Ed can still feel the reassuring squeeze as they continue on their way, Roy slightly in front, leading, guiding, supporting, Ed following numbly, borrowing strength from Roy's hand, as his mind slips into emptiness again, because it's easier this way, it's easier to not think, then it is to think, to think of the memorial that's ahead and the responsibility he has to face Winry after he's lost the remaining member of his own flesh and blood, after he's been helpless once more, losing that one whom he'd sworn never to lose.

They arrive as Winry steps off the train, Pinako has come too. Winry's eyes are red, as though she's just recently been crying. Ed wonders if she's been crying ever since she heard, or only just now on the train. They greet the Colonel with respect, and Ed is suddenly lost, as he finds himself being hugged by Winry, her arms tight around him as she begins to cry again. Ed doesn't know what to do; the right thing to do is hug her back, share the loss with her, put his arms around her and cry with her. But he is too scared, he is too ashamed and he is beginning to drown in the waves of sadness rolling off her, colliding with his own and causing a powerful rip, he's caught in the rip and his eyes open wide, panicky and fearful, as he grips hard onto the lifeline his hand is still holding. _Help_, his hand cries, it squeezes, and Roy gently eases Winry off, gently and reassuringly squeezing the scared, little hand back, while speaking kindly to both Winry and Pinako, as he leads them all to the military provided car, where the driver stands beside it, waiting patiently to drive them to the memorial.

Ed's eyes are fully open now, and he doesn't know what to think of anything, he doesn't **want** to think of anything, but he is drowning inside himself, in loss, in despair, in sadness, and pressing down on all of these is the terrible, horrible guilt, that it's all his fault. It's his fault, that Al was a suit of armour to begin with and it's his fault, he should have bound the soul tighter, stronger. It should have been him. He leans back into the seat of the car, unconsciously pressing himself closer into Roy's side, where he closes his eyes, allowing the scent of Roy to wash over him, trying to block everything out, and waiting for the day to be over. Because, although he's known for his unrelenting stubbornness and bravery in the face of danger, his unreasoning ability to dive in head first, his courage isn't strong enough for this type of thing. There's no reason to be brave anymore, because there's no one he has to be brave for anymore. There's no Al, there's no baby brother, and Ed has lost, he's lost his goal, and what should one do when this happens? Ed just wants to forget, his hold tightens on Roy's hand as they near their destination.


	4. breaking and mending

**Disclaimer:** I'm going to stop putting this in every single chapter, obviously I don't own anything, or it wouldn't be called fanfiction :)

**Note:** Well, this chapter hated me writing it, I'm fairly certain, sorry once more that it's kinda short, but I stayed up til 2am writing this, and I know it's all angsty and Ed hurting, um, I hope you enjoy it, and like it and yeah….here it is.

The memorial is being held outside, under an awning, the bright sunshine struggling to get through the thin fabric. Al loved being outdoors, the only other place Ed can think of that would have been appropriate is the library. These thoughts push against his heart, repeatedly beating with his heart's rhythm, telling him again and again that Al **loved**, that Al **was, **that Al **could** and the harshest whispering that Al **is no more**.

He stands beside Roy, arms by his side, straight-backed, hidden in his shell, letting the kind, gentle words of people speaking wash over him, wash past him. He has opened his eyes and closed his ears, watching their mouths form meaningless words, their sympathetic gestures. He can see Winry's body shaking with suppressed sobs and he notices the shine of tears on many people's faces. He shifts his gaze to the surrounding area; there are no passer-bys to watch, no lovers on a picnic, no families on an outing. The dew still sparkles slightly on the grass, and he watches the jewel of water slowly, slowly stretch towards the ground, before releasing its hold on the stalk of grass. Ed imagines he can hear it fall, but what he's listening to isn't that of a drop of water, he is hearing the clatter of armour as it falls, useless and empty, to the floor, he is hearing the clatter of a basket as it tumbles helplessly to the ground, as a small boy runs towards a fallen mother (1).

He glances beside him, and is reminded of the dewdrop, as something similar sparkles at the corner of Roy's eye, before rolling down his cheek. Ed shivers slightly, despite the heat of the sun. This can't be happening, this can't be real, and this can't be fair, it can't be happening. His eyes unwillingly look at all the faces around him, the silent, grieving faces, faces full of sympathy and pity for him, all looking at him, watching him. Ed doesn't like it at all.

"_Roy_" he whispers, voice soft, almost silent, more like a breath, a sigh, a silent plea. Roy glances at the frozen alchemist, and steps, inconspicuously, a little in front of Ed, blocking their stares, his back comfortingly close, so close that Roy swears he can feel Ed's breathing through the fabric, so close that it doesn't surprise him when he feels a small weight of a hand holding onto the tails of his jacket. Ed holds on tight, feeling faint and dizzy, he can almost feel the warmth radiating off Roy's back, if he leans forward he can bury his face in Roy's jacket, he will be flooded with Roy's scent, and if he's flooded with Roy's scent, he can forget, he can feel safe, if only for a little while. But he resists, he can't hide here, not with everyone watching him, he still has a tiny little bit of pride, and he won't let Al down here. This is for Al, he tells himself, it's all for Al, _we're remembering you_, he can never forget, he doesn't know if anyone ever could, to him it seems inconceivable, Al is Al, his brother, his life, his dream, his family. He was kind and gentle and loving, calm. The unfairness of it all hits Ed again, like a bag of bricks repeatedly beating him over the head, a pack of bulls consistently ramming into his chest, over and over, until Ed suspects that his heart is in so many pieces that he's afraid to move in case he leaves some behind, in case he loses himself. Al was so much better than him, he isn't kind or gentle, he's rough and he's stubborn, he's quick to anger and he is a cold, cold shell, never letting anyone in, closing himself off completely and doggedly pursuing his goal. Only one person has managed to push through those closed doors, determined and just as stubborn, pushing through relentlessly, until Ed let him in. That person is protecting him now, he's the one whose scent makes Ed feel safe and secure and wanted, needed. That person won't let anyone hurt him, and Ed is thankful for that, now more than ever, because he doesn't want to think about what would have happened if he hadn't of been there, if he, Ed, had had no one to know what to do; know when to hold him, and when to leave him. If Roy hadn't of been there, Ed would surely have been lost for good, sinking slowly into the dark, dark abyss of his own mind.

People are beginning to leave now, and Ed opens his eyes a little, lifting his head slightly. Soon it is just him and Roy. Ed pulls on Roy's jacket, tentatively, testing, and demanding all at the same time.

"Ed?" Roy asks, turning to face him, concern etched on his brow, the tear track still visible down his cheek. He doesn't have much time to think, before he finds arms around him and a silently crying face pressed into his chest, becoming lost in Roy's scent, becoming safe, trying to stop thinking, for a little while, now that everyone has gone. Ed feels he must be quick in these displays of affection, because he knows if he stops and thinks about the weakness he is showing, he would back out every time, so once a thought enters his mind, or an idea, he has to act quick, he has to jump on that command and move so that he doesn't pull back, doesn't hesitate, he doesn't want anyone to see him hesitating, because he feels that, that, in itself, is another form of weakness.

"It's okay, Ed." Roy whispers, his arms around Ed, holding him close, as more dewdrops glisten in the corners of his eyes, before rolling down his cheeks, and into Ed's hair, he can almost feel the pain from Ed's heart, and Ed is once more thankful that Roy is there, and can read him so well, that he knows exactly what it is Ed wants to hear.

Later they'll move, later on they'll return home, but for now they're going to stand there in silence and stillness, as the sun gradually journeys across the sky, they'll stand there, long after their tears have stopped.

**Note: **:) let me know what you think! Thanks for reading, unfortunately, the next chapter won't be up til later, because I have stuff on tonight that means I won't be able to write until tomorrow sometime. Sorry. But rest assured, more will come soon…I hope.


	5. crying out loud

Sorry, last chapter I had a (1) in there somewhere and completely forgot to put the footnote thingy in – it's from the anime, when Ed and Al see their mum on the floor and drop their baskets of fruit/vegetables/food etc. Hope you all got that.

**Disclaimer:** as before

**Note:** sorry for the long update, and the shortness of this chapter, I stayed up til 3am writing this for everyone…(smiles slightly)

**Warning:** this chapter contains alcohol abuse, blood, and probably very depressing thoughts. Sorry for the angst.

The sound of glass falling, smashing, onto the ground, wakes Roy with a start. His eyes snap open and he finds the bed beside him empty and cold. Ed is not there. There is the sound of glass shattering again and Roy is out of bed, hurrying, towards the sound in the kitchen.

"Edward!?" Impassive eyes gaze up at him from their owner's position on the floor, where he sits, surrounded by broken glass and a half empty bottle of spirits. His flesh hand still holds a jagged glass and as Roy watches, Ed pours more of the alcohol into his glass, onto the fragments of glass, lifting it's broken edge to his mouth, casting his eyes downward once more. He manages to cut his lips on the glass and is about to tilt his head back and swallow the cocktail of alcohol and clinking glass, but it is pulled away, and flung aside, smashing loudly on the floor.

Unfazed, Ed looks up at Roy, his eyes uncaring, unseeing, not there. He lifts the bottle to his lips and that too is hit out of his hands, crashing against a cupboard, spilling its contents amidst the wreckage and carnage on the floor.

It's been two weeks since Al's death and Roy doesn't understand how things have degenerated to this, he'd thought that Ed was slowly recovering, but, lately, Ed has been acting weird; the week before Roy had found him late one night, destroying books, with scissors, chopping at them haphazardly, cutting himself, bleeding, bleeding so that his blood stained the floor, stained his clothes, his skin; it stained Ed and it stained Roy. They'd spent hours in the bathroom, Roy scrubbing and scrubbing at the blood on both of them, Ed sitting so silently, and so empty. He can remember clearly, that after he'd steered Ed into bed and lain down beside him, Ed's hands had gripped onto his shirt, coming alive, burying his face just under Roy's chin; there had been tears, and quiet sobs, and the hands hadn't loosened their hold until Ed found sleep just as the birds began their morning song.

And now this, Roy doesn't think he's ever seen Ed drunk, he didn't think, and had hoped, that Ed would never have a need to touch this form of poison. Ed's hand clutches around some broken glass, squeezing it, his hand running with blood, before it is forcefully opened, the glass removed gently. He feels himself pulled to his feet and then lifted. Everything is kind of blurry and he can see that all the colour has gone, and that makes sense, because everything is black and white now that Al's gone, the colour has leached out of everything in their sorrow. He tries to reach more glass, but the ground is too far away, he hits his hand against this man's back, but his movements are too lethargic to really do that much damage. He claps his hands together, clumsily turning his automail into its dagger-like appendage. As he lowers it to his hand, however, he feels it grabbed and he is flipped over, he hits the ground on unsteady feet, swaying, he thinks he'll be sick.

"Edward!" A stern voice, Roy's voice, or just a dream, _this is all just a dream, isn't it, that's why it's so blurry and disconnected, right?_

"I can't feel it." Ed blurts out, his voice surprisingly steady, and normal, as though it hasn't been confined to one word sentences since Al's death. Roy holds onto his automail, frozen, waiting, hoping, for more, more opening of the silent shell Ed's slowly become again.

_Let me in_, he wants to scream as he stands waiting, outside Ed's door, there, but not there, after gradually being pushed back outside again and it hurts.

_I want back in, I need back in_, especially since it took him so long to work his way painstakingly through those gates the first time. (1)

Ed holds up his bloody hand, staring at nothing, everything swimming before his eyes.

"I can't feel this at all." He cries, voice panicky, and one tear rolls down his cheek.

"It hurts too much in here," he clutches at his chest, another tear falling, "and I can't breathe at all. I wish it had been me, I wish it had been me, it should've been me. He **wasn't** supposed to die. **It should have been me.**" The last line, he yells, choking on the tears streaming unchecked from his eyes, and Roy lets go of his automail.

**(1)** – These few lines of Roy's thoughts are because previously I'd said about Ed not letting anyone in, but Roy had found his way in, but now, during the time after Al's death, after the memorial, Ed's gradually pushed Roy out inch by inch, shutting himself off from the world basically, probably hating himself for living and trying not to move forward so that he can keep Al alive somehow, through his staying the same, and not changing, etc…does anyone understand what I'm trying to say??

**Note: **I know everyone's probably going to hate me for the cliffhanger type ending, but it was 3am in the morning when I reached this point and now I have a class to go to, and I knew if I continued writing I might not have gotten up this morning. Don't worry, the rest is basically vomiting from my mouth, so will definitely be writing more tonight.


	6. wishing and prayers

**Disclaimer:** own nothing, except ideas…and my teddy bear. :)

**Short note:** continued from last chapter – also, won't be writing more til Sunday night when I've returned from home… - this is also under debate at the moment, as have an assignment due on the Tuesday, but I will update soon.

Also, I'm sorry it's short, but I updated it pretty quick, right? I've only just written it, and it's 3:45am. :) The things we do for reviews.

Also, (this short note has become long) thanks to all the reviewers, the story alert adds, favourite story adds and things, etc. :) makes my day. Please enjoy.

It's the suddenness and the shock that startle Ed, in other aspects the slap doesn't hurt, his cheek should be stinging, but the mixture of alcohol and pain has numbed the Full Metal Alchemist to the core. Roy's hands on his shoulders are only dull weights, shaking him slightly, then leaning on him, as Roy kneels in front of him, eyes searching his face, looking intently into his.

"Don't ever say that again, don't **ever** say it." There is desperation in Roy's voice that Ed would like to forget, a complete desperation in his words and his actions as Ed finds himself pulled into those safe arms and clung to, his shoulder gradually dampening from the tears falling from Roy's eyes.

"Promise me." Roy whispers, commands, the loneliness of the tone, causing Ed to fracture, slumping down to his knees too, automail making an empty clunk in the silence, past sins never forgotten. He lifts his face to look up at Roy, tears still flowing unchecked. He reaches one hand up, clutching the front of Roy's shirt, his safety hold, while his other hand comes up and wipes away the tears on Roy's cheek. Roy closes his eyes, leaning into that slight comfort, that part of Ed that wants and needs to care and protect those around him, _please come back_.

"I'm sorry." Ed breathes, as the edges of his world dim and blend, before the alcohol takes effect and he falls forward into Roy's arms, blacking out.

Roy sits on the cold floor, holding his precious person, keeping this one person safe, wishing he could have kept Al safe as well, knowing that he would also have willingly given up his own life, if it meant these two brothers, who'd already been through so much, could have at least stayed together, watching out for one another and keeping each other alive and safe. He knows that if he'd died, Al would be doing a better job of looking after and trying to heal Ed then he's currently doing, because Al always knows what Ed needs to hear, always knows what Ed is thinking; he's known Ed longer. Roy gazes down at his sleeping Ed and prays to all the Gods he's ever heard of and some he hasn't, that, even if only for a little while, he can have the strength to take away some of Ed's sadness, he prays for Ed's health and Ed's pain and Ed's safety; making numerous deals that they can have him, Roy, if only they'd give Al back. Together they sit on the floor, one unconscious, the other silently begging, crying and clinging to the limp, small body in his arms.

Ed can feel warmth surrounding him; he can feel warm air on the back of his neck, and a steady heartbeat through his back. He can smell the smell of safety all around him and hear the slow ticking of the clock in the corner. He doesn't open his eyes, but the sunlight streams through his eyelids regardless, hurting his head; he is afraid to move in case things change, and also, he doesn't want this headache to worsen. He tries to bury his head further into his pillow to block out the flow of light. His hair tickles Roy's nose, causing him to stir slightly, eyes squinting open to the gold of Ed's hair, amplified by the morning sun. One of his arms is curled protectively over Ed's side and around his waist, holding him close, leeching warmth off each other. Their legs are lying the same, as though Ed has carefully moulded himself into Roy's body. Roy wonders if they can stay like this all day, but the hair tickles his nose and he sneezes. Alerted by this, Ed turns over, back to the sun, facing Roy; gold eyes locked in black ones. Roy sees all the truths beginning to crash down on Ed again, the knowledge filling him up again, as his golden eyes begin to drown in all the facts and the despair that he'd managed to temporarily forget while he was passed out. A veil begins falling into place again; the gates are shutting. Ed is blocking himself away again, pushing away from everyone and trying to deal by himself, but instead, clinging desperately to the sadness in the perverse reasoning that, if he remains sad, he'll be properly mourning his brother; there is not a time where he can stop mourning his brother, the thought is unrecognised, because, to stop mourning, for Ed, is to stop remembering and he has to keep this memory alive. If he stops mourning, if he allows himself out of this hole he's dug himself, if he lets anyone in, it will feel as though he's let Al down, and he can't deal with this concept, because already the guilt is weighing down on his old guilt. Because it is all his fault, everything is his fault and he can't start to heal until he's forgiven himself, and he just doesn't know how.


End file.
